An Altered Destiny: What Lurks Around Corners
by Pinnacle of Madness
Summary: Year two, WIP. Everything seems to be changing. After an eventful first year, Harry returns to more death, destruction, and petty school rivalries. The average troubles of school are bad enough, but add in the Things that lurk around the corners...
1. Prologue § Flashback

**Prologue § Flashback  
**

_§-July 29, 1980-§_

_"-the hell are you to tell me what to do?!"_

_"I'm the one who organized this whole damn thing!"_

_"Right, and Emmeline just stood by the sidelines and watched, did she?"_

_"No-"_

_"What are you two fighting about now?"_

_A stately looking witch in a in black robes and an emerald shawl had walked into the room to find two wizards, one with light brown hair wearing a dark blue cloak, one with pitch-black hair wearing forest-green robes, standing about five feet apart and shouting loud enough for the people in the next room to hear them, regardless of the silencing charms surrounding the walls. The witch stopped before them and glared at both of them, her hands on her hips._

_"__Evan Schlangeheld and Caradoc Dearborn, if we are going to get this done, you two need to learn to cooperate."_

_They stared at her._

_"Emmeline, you do realize you're asking for a miracle, right?"_

_"For once, Vance, I agree with __Schlangeheld."_

_Emmeline threw her hands in the air in exasperation. "I know perfectly well how you two care about each other, and frankly I don't care. At the moment, you two are acting like four-year-olds fighting over a toy wand."_

_They stared at her._

_"Just get along before I cook pork loaf without magic and force you two to eat it."_

_Eyes wide, they quickly nodded their consent._

_"Now shake hands and say you're sorry."_

_They stared at her._

_"Pork loaf."_

_Reluctantly, they joined hands, shook quickly while muttering apologies, then quickly moved to opposite sides of the room._

_"Good." Satisfied, Emmeline turned to go back downstairs and continue her lunch. Just before she closed the door behind her, she turned and addressed the wizard with brown hair. "And Evan, I was the one who organized this whole thing. You just fought over our arrival date with Caradoc. Now pull yourselves together! We have a lot to accomplish in the next two days..."  
_


	2. Shenanigans

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything relating to Harry Potter, the To Kill a Mockingbird reference, the _Dogma_ reference, Enter Sandman, nor Metallica.

**Author Notes:** I don't think I'm required to make excuses. I had my own reasons, goddamn it! Anyway, so I had fun with this chapter. Can you tell?

Why Metallica? Because I happened to be listening to that song at the time. It's a good song.

See if you can spot the references mentioned in the disclaimer!

Also, the dream being weird? Well, dreams are supposed to be weird. I tried to get it as close to a dream as I could. Everything that needs explaining will eventually be explained, or at least you will be given an explanation as to why it was not explained. So, please don't ask about The Couch. There is always method to my madness. It just never seems that way because I'm the only one who can follow it.

**Chapter 1 - Shenanigans**

* * *

_ Hush little baby, don't say a word  
And never mind that noise you heard  
It's just the beast under your bed,  
In your closet, in your head_

Exit light  
Enter night  
Grain of sand

Exit light  
Enter night  
Take my hand  
We're off to never never land

-Enter Sandman by Metallica

* * *

There were only two things Harry hated more than Ron Weasley and Draco Malfoy (they shared number three on his list because he couldn't figure out which one he hated more): garden gnomes and the Dursleys.

The garden gnomes were number one, but we won't get much into that, seeing as it's a long story and would probably scar you for life as well. The Dursleys, at number two, were just plain nasty. And so, despite the bad experiences from last year that would put any normal person off magic for a couple years, Harry almost wished the summer only lasted five minutes. Almost.

His laziness kept it from being completely true.

Unfortunately, whether he liked or not, or regardless of if he even cared, summer break was a regularity lasting for a couple months, and being his only living blood relatives (minus Uncle Vernon, of course, who was only related to Harry by marriage), Harry would have to stay with them for at least some of the entirety of vacation.

So Harry spotted them at King's Cross station rather quickly, sticking out by trying to blend in lest someone they know see them surrounded by oddly-dressed freaks. Besides, it was rather difficult to miss Uncle Vernon and Dudley. Suppressing a scowl at the sight of Number Two on his Most Hated list, Harry pushed his trolley over and stood three feet in front of them, waiting to be acknowledged. He wasn't, of course, but instead given the unspoken choice of following them at a small distance or being stranded at King's Cross for all eternity, or at least until someone took him home with them, bringing upon everyone Dumbledore's wrath, something nobody wants, and probably ending in Harry being forced back with the Dursleys anyway, only with them slightly more annoyed (in a gross understatement) because of the pissed-off elderly warlock in strange clothes who walked to their front door in broad daylight and proceeded to yell at them.

Harry chose the former.

It was after the trunk on the trolley had been heaved into the trunk of Uncle Vernon's Car-That-Cost-More-Than-You-Will-Ever-Have and they were ten miles from King's Cross that Harry was properly and vocally acknowledged.

"Boy," began Uncle Vernon, "there are some things that need to be discussed before we get home."

Right, thought Harry. _Discussed. Sure. You mean created without due reason or purpose except in your prejudiced mind._

"First, there will be none of your... malarkey."

"What do you mean, sir?" Harry asked in the most innocent voice he could muster that obviously needed work because Uncle Vernon didn't buy it for one minute.

"Don't play fool with me, boy!" Yeah, because I'll never win that game against you. "I mean those... M-shenanigans."

_Heh heh. I love that word. It's so cool to say. ShhhhhhhhheeeeeeeeeeeNANigans! Hah._ "Yes, sir. None." Harry suppressed a smirk.

Uncle Vernon glared suspiciously at Harry through the rear-view mirror before deciding there wasn't enough insolence in the statement to bring attention to. "The moment we get home, that... _trunk_ of yours is going in the cupboard."

Harry almost yelled, "What?! But how will I do my homework?!" but just as it was on the tip of his tongue, something Blaise had once said came to mind: "Never ask a question you don't already know the answer to." Harry had no idea how Uncle Vernon might react to something as simple as that. Harry had no idea how Uncle Vernon might react to anything, let alone Aunt Petunia or Dudley. Even mentioning homework could set something off. Harry had a feeling the answer would be something along the lines of, "I don't care about your bloody homework. It's either your trunk or you!" but a feeling wasn't good enough for Harry. Not when it came to the Dursleys. So, he settled on, "Yes, sir."

* * *

Everything was carried out as planned. Trunk, everything included, went in the cupboard for a nice, long nap, and Harry went up to his room which had been his less than a year, which hadn't been a spoken part of the original plan, but if you were Harry, would you _really_ want to stay with them more than you had to? Nope, didn't think so.

So summer started out okay in terms of, 'at least I'm getting the equivalent of two square meals a day and I have semi-free roam of the neighborhood and all within.' Harry actually rather enjoyed wandering the neighborhood. Sure, it was hot, being summertime, but his clothes were just loose enough to be breezy and just tight enough to be modest. Of course, what did Harry care what he looked like? The neighbors thought he was crazy anyway.

One of his favorite places to go was a tree in the park. It was nice and shady and he could easily climb up there, and so he was completely obscured from view while being able to watch the children play. Here he could speak with Synthea and let her feed on nearby mice and insects while he lounged and occasionally tried to see how high up he could get.

It soon got to the point where climbing trees became his favorite pastime activity. If he actually got to the top, he could just sit there and let the occasional breeze ruffle his hair and pretend he was flying on the broomstick sleeping in his trunk in the cupboard under the stairs. He spent a couple weeks like this, loosing track as days blurred to weeks and soon, though he knew not, his birthday fell upon him in the form of a troublesome little house elf that we all know and (for some reason) love that popped into his room rather rudely one night during some incomprehensibly important (with plenty of sarcasm to spare) meeting of Uncle Vernon's, causing Harry to thank every deity he knew and didn't believe in that he had been banned from the party.

I won't bother to bore you with the conversation because there wasn't enough change to warrant retyping the whole damn thing. It was all the same, just replace some words and names and get rid of a couple questions and aspects altogether.

However, there was one small thing that, though entirely different, brought upon Harry and everyone else at Number Four the same general effect. I might not bother with this either, but I feel you'll find it rather amusing, so I'll change the song I'm listening to and start typing.

Instead of the whole, 'oh, I'm going to float the pudding over and drop it on the old lady's head' thing that could've been accomplished without magic, really, as the movie showed us, Dobby did something that if it were to be accomplished by hand, would've required an hour, a car drive, and two hundred dollars that Harry didn't have. Kinda throws in a little spin, ya know?

What did he do, you ask? Why, he summoned a magical boom box and began blasting Enter Sandman by Metallica as high as the volume would go. Now, considering this boom box is magical, how loud do you think this is? Answer: pretty damn loud. Why Metallica? Well, how do you think this uptight Number Four inhabitants feel about anything that might be classified as metal? Exactly. It must die.

And from there on in, it's all once again more or less the same. Ya know, Masons get kinda pissed, Dursleys manage to explain things away, owl ruins everything, Uncle Vernon gets pissed and goes all psycho on Harry.

So, Harry lies now in bed, falling asleep with an empty stomach and bars on his windows, hoping one of his friends will grow concerned with his lack of response.

* * *

One night, lonely and miserable, Harry awakens to a strange noise. He woke to a shadow by his window. He looked out and saw Blaise there. Never mind he was on the second story, there she stood. "Come on, Harry," she said, and Harry followed her because suddenly the bars were not there. So they walked and covered five miles for every step until they arrived at a lovely yet wholly strange house on a nice street whose name was not comprehended. He walked in and saw a lovely woman who looked rather like Blaise. "I'm Barbara. Nice to meet you, Harry Potter, finally, and thank you for saving us almost eleven years ago." "Of course, Mrs. Zabini," Harry replied. And so they walked in the hall and down the hall past a stained-glass window depicting the 13th Apostle and into a lovely dining hall wherein stood a man with the same nose and skin tone as Blaise. "Harry Potter, I should think? Blaise has spoken of you. I'm Xavier Zabini." "It is good to meet you, sir." "Yes indeed. Take a tour of the house and please watch out for the Tuna that Dance. They tend to hypnotize, you understand." "Thank you, sir." And they walked and Harry saw magic and muggle things alike and was amazed. "I love it," Harry told Blaise who did nothing but smile as she led him to through the fancy living room used for company and into the basement that served as the den where they spent time.

Then he turned and screamed as he looked upon The Couch Which Eats Human Flesh.

* * *

Of course, you have to understand. Harry had thought he was forever rid of that couch. So it was with a heavy heart that he awoke screaming and panting in his small, barred room at Number Four, hoping and praying that he had not a drop of Seer blood in his body.

* * *

I'm sure you all thought I forgot about Perdita the Fiddledum. Nope. Perdita was just off sniffing around the castle all through _The Beginning, If There is One_. As a cat-like creature, she could only feel completely comfortable when she finally felt she knew the territory. Now repeat the last fourteen words of the previous sentence again in your head, and immediately afterwards picture Hogwarts in your mind? The only reason it took her such a short time is because she's small enough to fit in small areas and can blend in with her surroundings! It would take a human years at the very least.

And Synthea? She rode around Perdita's neck most of the time. She also rather wanted to know Hogwarts, after all. I mean, who the hell wouldn't? Hogwarts is cool. Secrets waiting to be discovered, the eternally lost hoping to be found...

The eternally lost...

...hoping...

...anticipating being found.


End file.
